DJ Premier - Streets Move lyrics

[Big Shug] Yeah, here we go, here we go Big Shug, comin at you baby with my man Singapore Got the streets movin on 'em baby, that's wha**up Make moves on them n***as Once again, it's the last of the dying breed Burstin and pushin trees, blastin my enemies Never conform to nothin, always perform for somethin Hustle for big chips, shufflin cards and sh** Spittin it for the bricks, spittin it for this clique Spittin it for the thugs surrounded by dime chicks Yes I stay intense, my style's, different I purify the water like 50 Cent Spit it heavy heavy, Porsche Caddy or Chevy Who gave a f** about your ride when they broke the levy Don't blame it on the Pres, blame it on the black mayor The Pres got the power, the mayor's just a sayer I'm still touchin pullin squeezin and clappin Co-captain when I spit on beats by Preem I live the life, that you MC's dream But I'm still chasin after the cream Yes I'm still at it, hungry like the very first day When I picked the microphone up and made the crowd sway I still scream JUST MOVE ON 'EM Put the weapons in the air and put TWO ON 'EM~! [Hook: repeat 2X] Streets move on 'em, he fake moves put two on him Aim for the head, put pressure on him Don't believe what he say, just move on him Streets move on 'em, streets move on 'em {*scratch: "go against the grain cause I'm a real man"*} {*"a sad game, we all tryin to win it"*} {*"gangsters respect"*} [Singapore Kane] Poetic street lyricist, hot flows bring heat to my sentences f** a weak gimmick cause I'm deep, did I mention that MC's try to spit but I hoch lungies I was dope when Bobby Brown was rockin that Gumby Cops fear me cause they don't scare me My "Moment of Truth" came when I applied the "Robbin Hood Theory" Rob from the rich and give to the poor I'm tight on the stage with the mic, like Eddie Murphy in _Raw_ On the block where I drunk 'gnac and threw up, where Malcolm X grew up Where new bucks try to make a few bucks The crack route might get that a** whacked out I beat backs out, drink Guinness Black Stout I know rastas who still drive Cressidas And pack machetes to f** up your skin like eczema I be smooth, when I hear the beat groove Richter couldn't measure, how I make the streets move, streets move [Hook] [Big Shug] You foolin the people, push records to sell Rappin that lie music, dancin to minstrel Sinful to sing your hooks, layin out for the crooks We know you ain't sayin nothin your whole persona's shook I'm likin that ice too, I'm likin them cars too Born with no silver spoon, grindin I have to do True with my moves, never settle for nothin Record deals are false, cats with no pulse Sayin I can be thug, when they know they man's soft The industry is soft, take a look at your boss Today, he's the one, livin like Bill Gates Tell you everyday to hurry up so you can wait Your mentality's street so every day you creep He could be yo' next victim any day of the week Grab him by the shirt, look him dead in the eye Yell out Biggie Smalls, make him "Ready to Die"